


Laughing

by KittieHill



Series: 31 Days of Porn challenge 2017 [8]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 31 Days of Porn Challenge 2017, Awkward Boners, Awkward Sexual Situations, Doctor John, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Injured Lestrade, John is a Good Friend, Laughter, M/M, Masturbation in Shower, helping hand
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2017-06-07
Packaged: 2018-11-10 07:47:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11122884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittieHill/pseuds/KittieHill
Summary: “Alright, so are you going to be okay for a bit? I need to pop home for a few bits and get more shopping in.” John smiled, folding the paper, “Want anything special?”“Beer!”Greg grinned in reply only for John to click his tongue and shake his head.“Cant I’m afraid, not with your meds.” John said playfully.“Okay, then a busty woman with loose morals and a tight…” Greg stopped and blushed “Nevermind.”John nodded with a smirk and grabbed both sets of keys before leaving Greg prone on the sofa “I'll see what I can do, although I'm not sure you can find them in Tesco”“You seem to do just fine” Greg shouted back in reply, listening as John laughed happily on his way out of the door.This is a story I've had for AGES but never finished. Thought id finish it off and post.Not beta'd





	Laughing

John screamed out seconds too late; Lestrade had run around the corner, gun in hand and didn’t hear John or look where he was going, running straight into the path of the getaway driver who put his foot down and bounced the DI off the windscreen and over the roof.

Lestrade was lucky that John was nearby as the doctor promptly began triaging the wounds sustained. _Probable broken wrist, collarbone and ribs, deep laceration to the forehead but thankfully no spinal or neck issues although an Xray wouldn’t hurt just to check._ Sherlock arrived moments later, his eyes wide with panic as he ran to Lestrade’s side asking John what he could do to help.

The next few moments were a blur of _officer down_ radio calls and sirens, John helped the paramedics stabilise Greg before putting him into the Ambulance to Kings College hospital.

Mycroft had arranged that Greg be transferred to his own private room where he could have unlimited visitors and better comfort then he would have in a ward for which Lestrade was eternally grateful. He spent a week being fussed over by pretty nurses who flirted constantly between awkward bed baths and drug rounds much to Greg’s delight. John and Sherlock visited often with John checking his records on a daily basis checking his treatment and prognosis, offering the doctors his opinion whether it was wanted or not. Greg was his friend and John wanted to care for him.

“They say I should be home tomorrow.” Greg beamed as John entered the room with yet another box of biscuits sent from Mrs Hudson, it seemed the woman was on 24-hour baking duty.

“Not sure that’s a good idea, Greg.” John frowned, “How are you going to look after yourself?”

Greg looked down at both of his cast bandaged wrists and gave a half shrug “I’ll manage.”

“No. You won’t.” John insisted “We can try to arrange a home help, ask Mycroft to send someone discreet.”

Greg grimaced “What? Have some poor sod come round to feed me soup and wipe my arse? No thanks.”

John grinned “Sounds perfect to me,” he joked before sitting beside Greg “look, we’re mates. If you want to go home I can’t stop you but let me stay with you? I’ve lived with Sherlock long enough to be able to look after a sulky manchild so dealing with you shouldn’t be too much worse.”

Greg huffed out a laugh, “I couldn’t ask that from you mate.”

“You’re not asking, I’m offering,” John insisted, “So, do you want to give me your keys and I’ll stock up the fridge and what not?”

Greg blushed and nodded, thanking John as the doctor took his keys and pocketed them before beginning a rant on Sherlock's most recent experiment which had covered the kitchen in slime.

* * *

Greg’s phone rang shrill and loud into his ear, startling him awake with a snort and causing him to awkwardly attempt to grab it and swipe the answer bar across. Realising he couldn’t hold it to his ear thanks to the casts, he put it on speaker phone, barely getting out a grunt before Sherlock's voice rang out in his room.

“Lestrade!” Sherlock’s angry voice rang out “I’ve text you 13 times and you haven’t replied. I've had to resort to _calling!_ ”

“I’m in hospital Sherlock.” Greg sighed “With two broken wrists. I can’t text.”

“Oh.” Sherlock muttered “Well… What’s this I hear about John staying with you?”

“Er- yeah he offered to stay whilst my casts are on.” Greg shrugged, “He practically bullied me into it.”

“What am I going to do without John?!” Sherlock asked incredulously, “He’s my blogger.”

“Sherlock, I can’t be bothered with this. I don’t want to inconvenience John at all but I’ll need some help and he offered.” Greg replied tensely.

“Fine,” Sherlock muttered before hanging up.

Greg looked at the dark screen before exhaling.

The next morning Greg awoke with a smile, glad to be getting out of the hospital. Not that he didn't appreciate the NHS, of course he did, but he would be much happier in his own flat, in his own bed. Managing to get dressed with the help of a burly orderly, Greg allowed himself to be buttoned and zipped into his clothes for the first time since the accident, smelling John's fabric softener and wondering when John had managed to do his laundry. The question was soon forgotten when John walked into the room, a massive grin on his face and a small bag of medication in his hand.

“Ready?” John asked, looking Greg up and down and smiling “It's much nicer than the gown.”

“Yes, I can't wait to leave. Take me home” Greg begged, shuffling in pain at the ache still in his ribs.

“The taxi is waiting for us outside, just take your time and steady yourself on me if you need to” John suggested, standing close to Greg and putting a soothing arm around his waist “Let's go”

The trip back to his flat didn't take long and Greg enjoyed the fresh air coming in from the window as they drove, chatting aimlessly between themselves and the driver. Feeling relaxed, Greg fought the urge to fall asleep at the rocking of the car.

Once they pulled up outside Greg's building, John helped Greg from the taxi and helped him into the lift to his flat. Greg offered to carry his bag which was quickly dismissed by John who grabbed the rucksack and put it over his shoulder as he walked Greg into the door. Greg inhaled the scent of home and immediately relaxed,

“Okay, are you hungry yet?” John asked watching Greg nod, “Anything you fancy?”

“Anything but soup.” Greg grimaced, “Can’t stand the stuff.”

“Right, I’ll see what I can muster up. You allergic to anything?” John asked as he walked to the kitchen,

“Nope. I’ll eat anything.” Greg laughed “Except soup.”

John cooked a quick stir fry; simple and easy yet delicious. The doctor sat with Lestrade feeding him small bites as they talked, trying not to focus on the awkward situation, once the food was finished John sorted Greg’s painkillers and helped him take them before settling down to watch TV, smiling as Greg began to slip off to sleep in his chair.

“Come on, lets get you to bed.” John smiled, helping Lestrade to stand and walk to his bedroom which John had quickly tidied around and changed the bedding. Lestrade stood groggily as John stripped him of his clothes and helped him into bed wearing just his T-shirt and boxers.

“I’ll be on the sofa if you need me.” John smiled, closing the door and leaving the DI to sleep peacefully.

Greg woke a few times in the night in pain or confused at his location; he called out for John once for more painkillers and a glass of water but promptly fell back to sleep whereas the doctor tossed and turned on the uncomfortable sofa. His shoulder aching from the springs which dug into his skin.

* * *

Lestrade woke up later than expected, it was almost 11am when he finally roused himself and climbed from the bed, padding into his bathroom and attempting to take a piss. He realised that he couldn’t reach his shorts due to the plaster casts on his wrists,

“Shit,” he swore loudly “Er- John?”

The doctor wandered in with his cup of morning tea and a smile “Everything ok?”

“Yeah, I just erm… Can’t quite… manage.” Lestrade blushed watching the realisation wash over John.

“Oh. Course.” John put his tea down on the top of the sink before walking behind Greg, his chest inches away from the DI’s back as he pulled out the flaccid cock and aimed it at the water below.

Greg groaned with relief as the urine began to flow and his bladder slowly reduced in size, John held him tightly and when he had finished, promptly wiped and tucked him away then washed his hands.

“Not too embarrassing, eh?” John smiled with a careful pat on Greg’s shoulder before leaving the bathroom, hoping that Greg hadn’t seen the hardness pressed against the fabric of his pyjamas.

* * *

The following day continued with much the same pace, John helped Greg to eat and drink, use the loo and sorted his medication to ensure he wasn’t in too much pain. Greg however was beginning to feel frustrated and tense from a certain need being unfulfilled,

“I was thinking...” John started as he read the paper from Greg’s armchair whilst Greg reclined on the sofa “You could probably do with a shower or bath really.”

“Cheers mate. Saying I stink?” Greg chuckled “smooth.”

“No!” John laughed, “I’m not suggesting you smell or anything. Just thought you might fancy one.”

“Id kill for a shower,” Lestrade admitted, “but it’s going to be such a mess on.”

“Not necessarily.” John said calmly, “I was thinking about it, if I just put on a pair of swimming trunks and stand behind you, I can wash you properly and keep your arms dry.”

Greg cleared his throat nervously and attempted to rub the back of his neck, realising he was stuck in plaster he groaned and let his head fall back onto the arm “Might aswell try.”

“Alright, so are you going to be okay for a bit? I need to pop home for a few bits and get more shopping in.” John smiled, folding the paper, “Want anything special?”

“Beer!”Greg grinned in reply only for John to click his tongue and shake his head.

“Cant I’m afraid, not with your meds,” John said playfully.

“Okay, then a busty woman with loose morals and a tight…” Greg stopped and blushed “Nevermind.”

John nodded with a smirk and grabbed both sets of keys before leaving Greg prone on the sofa “I'll see what I can do, although I'm not sure you can find them in Tesco”

“You seem to do just fine” Greg shouted back in reply, listening as John laughed happily on his way out of the door.

* * *

Greg lowered his hands to his crotch; desperately seeking friction on his hardness but finding it impossible to grasp his dick due to his plaster cast. Groaning deeply he hit his head against the arm of the sofa and grimaced; the shower was going to be awkward as fuck.

John had been perfectly reasonable so far; he had fed the older man, dealt with his medication and held his cock whilst he pissed ( _although Greg had refused point blank to let John deal with the other bodily function. He had his pride for gods sake)_ so the shower shouldn’t be anymore nerve-wracking than John holding his cock but Greg knew it would be. He normally wanked in the shower on a nightly basis and so far, it had been almost 14 days since his last orgasm and his cock was beginning to grow tired of the delay in pleasure. Greg grimaced as he imagined the awkward _‘perfectly natural’_ and _‘nothing I haven’t seen before’_ comments which John was bound to say when Greg got hard, his cock bobbing and leaking without even being touched.

Standing up shakily, Greg moved back to his bedroom and wrestled with his pillow until he could rut against it, he couldn’t take off his trousers without help but the small amount of friction between his clothed erection and the pillow was enough to make him gasp and try harder to get off, thrusting and rubbing himself desperately and getting nowhere. Groaning exasperatedly he flung himself onto his back on the mattress and tried to think of anything to quash his arousal.

* * *

Greg was still laid on his bed when John returned with a cry of “I’m back” Greg shouted to let him know he was in the bedroom before standing up and walking into the living room.

“How’s Sherlock?” Greg asked.

“He hadn’t eaten for 3 days, God knows when he last slept.” John shook his head “but he offered to come and look after you… I managed to fob him off though.”

“Thank you.” Greg laughed “I’m not sure I’m up to that yet.”

John smiled sweetly and began putting away the groceries “I was thinking Lasagne for tonight? Unless you want something else?”

“Sounds fine, mate.” Greg smiled “It’s been ages since I've had proper home cooked meals, I could get used to it.”

“Not your housekeeper.” John clucked with his best Mrs Hudson impression making Greg chuckle deeply as he sat on the sofa “Do you want your shower now or before bed?”

“Before bed,” Lestrade answered, he didn’t want to have to sit in embarrassed silence for hours once his cock hardened next to his friend.

“I’ll get started then.” John smiled, “Can I put music on? I like listening to music when I cook.”

“Course,” Greg smiled “Anything you want.”

* * *

Greg learned a lot about John from watching him cook and sing along to music; the detective was pleasantly surprised that he and John shared the same taste in music, the pair sang tunelessly along to Blue Oyster Cult and Black Sabbath as John put the lasagne into the oven to cook.

Greg also noticed how often John winced at the pain in his shoulder, the doctor biting his tongue to stop the pained cry escaping to hide it from Greg. Lestrade realised that the sofa probably wasn’t the best place for John to sleep, especially considering he had a huge bed that he was only using half of… although it could be a hard sell to get John to share. The men settled down to eat together, John feeding Greg forkfuls of cheesy lasagne before gobbling up his own, settling into a comfortable rhythm as both men ate happily,

“That was delicious.” Greg grinned, his arms resting over his now full stomach “Where did you learn to cook like that?”

“My mum,” John shrugged “I quite enjoy cooking, relaxes me. Which is useful when I live with a madman”

“You're a bloody saint,” Greg laughed, taking a sip of his soft drink through the straw which John had put into the glass.

* * *

“You ready?” John asked cautiously, looking over at a clearly nervous Greg.

“Yeah… do you think this is a good idea?” Greg asked, his cheeks flushed pink with embarrassment.

“Greg, mate.” John started, “I don’t want to use all the clichés but I will if it helps, nothing I haven’t seen before, I’m a doctor, I’ve seen weirder, mate helping a mate.”

Greg smiled and nodded, “might aswell get it over with.”

John hummed in agreement and stood, walking to the compact bathroom and starting the shower, ensuring it was a correct temperature before quickly stripping his clothes off and grabbing the swimming shorts he had left in the bathroom especially.

The swimming trunks had been at the bottom of his drawers, laid forgotten since his last lads holiday in 2004. He had still been in the army in those days, still compact and muscled and he remembered the looks they had pulled around the pool. John had strutted (although he would deny it) around to the pool bar and back, tensing his buttocks and looking around at the men and women who seemed to follow him with their eyes.

Pulling them up his hips he noticed that he had put on weight since he last wore the garment, they were a very snug fit over his arse and crotch whilst small handles of pudgy stomach hung over the waistband. John shook his head and cursed himself for not checking the size, or trying them on, before bringing them over, he could have bought new ones on the way back to Greg’s. Lestrade stood outside the door, towel hanging over his cast as he waited for John to open the door to let him in; he wasn’t expecting the sight when John finally opened up.

“Fucking hell!” Greg shrieked with laughter, “Couldn’t you find any tighter ones?”

“Shuttup!” John blushed “I didn’t realise how flabby id gotten.”

“Oh, I forgot to say.” Greg smiled “She called for you.”

“Who?” John asked puzzled.

“The girl from Ipanema.” Greg cackled, “She wondered if you wanted to visit the beach with her.”

“Twat.” John laughed, grateful that the awkward situation had been broken, “I think I look rather dashing.”

John added a twirl and dropped a hip comically which had Greg almost doubled over in hysterical giggles at the ridiculousness of their predicament.

“Right. Come on. I think I’ve looked enough of a prick for tonight, let’s get this over with,” John smiled, his eyes twinkling as he helped Greg undress, Lestrade bit his lip as John bent over to pull down his pyjama bottoms, freeing his slightly plumped shaft to the steamy bathroom air.

“Oh Gregory” John joked ‘I think you like my trunks’

“Fuck off!” Greg swore before nudging John “Yours are the closest things to tits I've seen in months. Cant blame a fella,”

John chuckled and wrapped Greg’s arms in numerous carrier bags and tape before helping the DI into the shower, standing behind him and closing the shower curtain.

“Right so...” John started “how do you normally like to do it? Hair first?”

Greg shrugged, trying to force down the filthy thoughts which immediately popped into his head whenever he entered the shower for his daily wank.

“Right,” John repeated, grabbing for the bottle of shampoo from the side and pouring a generous dollop onto his hands before rubbing it into Greg’s scalp, scraping his nails over the sensitive skin until Greg was an almost quivering mess. He had forgotten how sensitive his scalp could be.

John helped him rinse the shampoo out and grabbed the shower gel and sponge; John bent and kneeled at Greg’s feet to run around the skin of his knees, ankles and feet, steadying Greg when the DI needed to lift his foot for John to clean. John made quick work of it, making simple conversation about music, nights out and work to keep Greg feeling comfortable. He added more soap and began washing Greg’s back and shoulders, careful of the still healing scars and bruises which littered the pale skin; moving himself closer to Greg’s back he carefully reached around the DI’s stomach to clean the tops of his friends arms, neck and chest. His stomach following swiftly after before John moved away to rinse off the suds and add more soap to the sponge.

Greg was achingly hard now; his cock twitching and desperate for friction thanks to John’s touch. Lestrade tried to will it away, thinking of the worst things he could in order to stop the stiffness but nothing worked, he startled when a hand wrapped around his erection.

“J-John?” Greg asked only to be shushed.

The only sound in the bathroom was the running water and Greg’s heavy breathing as John carefully tightened his grip on the hard cock in front. John’s front was still pressed against Greg’s back as he gently moved his hand in small strokes, finding a comfortable rhythm and listening to Greg’s body react to the stimulation. Greg could hardly breathe from pleasure as tingles radiated from his spine and engulfed his mind; John flicked his wrist the same way he would do to himself and watched as Greg’s knees buckled and a small whimper escaped the DI’s lips, John smiled and picked up the pace, his other hand moving to cup and stroke the tight balls beneath the bobbing shaft.

“John,” Greg groaned as a warning before his orgasm washed over him with surprising intensity and an almost painful throb in his testicles. Greg saw sparkles of white light as his thick come pulsed onto the bathroom tiles, in long, stringy ribbons.

“That’s it,” John chanted “There y’are.”

“Fuck,” Greg swore as his forehead lolled forward and his legs shook wildly.

John smiled from behind and climbed from the tub, grabbing the towel and helping Greg wrap himself in the fabric before pulling off the plastic coverings from the detective’s arms. Neither man spoke as John helped Greg into a clean t-shirt and pants, the doctor carefully lying Greg into bed and flicking on the TV as background noise as he fiddled with medicine bottles and getting water.

“John,”Greg mumbled, “It’s ridiculous you sleeping on that sofa when the bed is big enough for us both.”

“Err...” John started, nervously rubbing the back of his neck “Thanks, Greg but I’m alright,”

“No. _No no no_ nothing like that!” Greg insisted in a rush “Your shoulder. I noticed it's causing you jipp. Nothing funny.”

“Oh,” John huffed out a pant of air and smiled “cheers mate, appreciate that.”

Greg flushed pink as John handed him his medication and water to wash it down, “am I alright to have a shower?” John asked watching Greg frown and nod.

“You don’t have to ask, what’s mine is yours,” Greg laughed “knock yourself out.”

“Strange choice of phrase,” John mumbled before smirking, “Knock one out yourself.”

“I didn’t say that and you know it. You bloody pervert,” Greg chuckled as he grasped for the remote and began clicking through the channels “I’ll just stay here.”

John nodded and moved to collect a towel before locking himself into the bathroom and stripping himself of the wet bathing trunks and stepping into the hot shower spray. His hands moved to rub his own cock roughly, remembering the sounds and aroma of Greg’s body so close to him under the water, the soft coos as the DI climaxed and splashed the tiles with his come. John rocked his hips into the vice-like grip of his hand and bit back a groan as he came hard.

He washed himself and climbed out of the tub feeling sated and sleepy as he grabbed his pyjamas and redressed in the living room before walking to Greg’s bedroom. His friend was already fast asleep thanks to be quick working medication which allowed John to climb into the bed beside his mate and get himself comfortable, he too fell asleep almost immediately.

* * *

John awoke blinking and confused at the strange surroundings and warm heat pressed against his back. He looked around and startled as he remembered where he was and who he was with.

“Greg?” he croaked, his voice sleep dry and rough.

“Hmm,” the DI grumbled and pulled the covers higher.

John closed his eyes and willed away his morning erection; he didn’t want to make Greg feel uncomfortable with the thought that his friend was lusting over him. He thought of various scenarios until he realised another awkward situation was arising, Greg’s own cock was pushing into his plush arse and softly grinding against the skin.

“Greg.” John said harder, attempting to wake his friend before they got carried away.

“Shit!” Greg groaned and moved away as though he had been burned “shit, sorry John.”

“Don’t worry mate.” John smiled and attempted to reassure his friend “The joys of being a man, eh?”

Greg made a half arsed attempt at a laugh but John knew he was suffering; the DI was a proud man and being invalided in this way was obviously affecting him more than he was letting on.

“I’ll make tea. Need to use the loo first or can you wait?” John asked,

Greg was silent for a moment before grimacing “could do with going now.”

John nodded and stood up rearranging himself in a less obvious position before leading Greg into the bathroom; Greg lingered momentarily, aware that his cock was still half hard and likely to cause aiming issues for his friend but his bladder was insisting that it needed attention. He stood beside the toilet and blushed as John pulled down his trousers and exposed his cock to the air, taking it in his hand he aimed it at the bowl and began small talk to take Lestrade’s mind off the situation. Greg relaxed and allowed himself to use the toilet before John tucked him away and washed his hands before walking to the kitchen to start tea, bringing two cups back into the bedroom he handed Greg his and took his previous seat on the bed.

* * *

“John I er… about yesterday?” Greg stumbled over his wording as he blushed crimson and looked away from his friend who had also begun to blush.

“It’s fine,” John replied cautiously “I mean… it was… alright, yeh?”

“Fuck yeah,” Greg answered, before cringing and blushing further “I just… I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

John sat for a moment before looking over at Greg sitting looking dejected and frustrated; his wrists still ached and he hated that he couldn’t do anything for himself. John sat back on the pillows and began to talk,

“When I was in the army...” he started before trailing off “things happened there… things we never talked about. It was easy to become lonely and frustrated; the constant fear that something would happen, the boredom of endless hours dragging on in the desert and the bawdy jokes of soldiers created a weird mix of camaraderie.”

John noticed Greg was listening intently so continued,

“There were certain things you could do which technically weren’t allowed but the superiors never really stopped... anything from mutual wanks to a glory hole in the end toilet door. It was never discussed but you could always find whatever you needed...” John smiled at the memory “there was a bloke called Billy who was very in demand for his storytelling abilities.”

“Stories?” Lestrade mumbled confused,

“The barracks would be dark and silent except for Billy who would talk; he would discuss certain scenario’s and the other soldiers would…well… you know what I mean.” John flushed,

“Oh” Greg said surprised “and you…”

“Occasionally,” John shrugged “Occasional hand jobs in the showers, mutual wanks in the barracks.”

“I see.” Greg nodded,

“So, what we’re doing. It’s not that much of a big deal for me.” John insisted “I’m just helping you recover as best I can as your friend.”

Greg felt a tonne lighter as he nodded his understanding and smiled at his mate playfully, “so… you are a wanker then, eh”

“Oh fuck off!” John laughed.


End file.
